Lay your Head Down
by Savvy Sammy-13
Summary: This takes place a little before and after Commodus threatens Lucilla and gives his memorable 'Merciful' speech. These three chapters tell the POV of Lucius, Commodus, and Lucilla up to the point where Commodus leaves to fight Maximus. These shorts dig deeper into the emotional ties of the three characters and explores what the movie left out.
1. Lucius

_Author's Note: This is my first Gladiator Fanfic. I recently watched Gladiator in my history class at school and I found Commodus so unbelievably interesting. Joaquin Phoenix was amazing in that role. So here is what I wrote to fill in the gaps between when Commodus gave his 'Merciful' speech and when he fought Maximus, exploring POV of Lucius, Commodus himself, and Lucilla. Reviews and any criticisms would be appreciated. Thanks ahead of time._

"I wish to see my mother, Uncle." Lucius crossed his arms across his chest defiantly as he waited for his uncle Commodus to turn away from the balcony that he was facing. The young boy's small, innocent voice echoed on the stone walls, but Commodus did not turn to face his nephew. Lucius stared hard at his uncle's back. He didn't want to continue being ignored, but then again, he was not sure that he wanted to hear his angry uncle's response.

Lucius looked to the guards that stood to his left and to his right behind him. In all of his life in the palace, he had never had as many guards following him or seen as many watching over his uncle. More had been called on to watch him and his mother as well as his uncle. The young boy slicked his tongue out to moisten his dry lips. He knew that his mother sat in a room with far more guards watching her just a few feet away.

A nervous ache formed in Lucius's stomach the longer he stared at his uncle's back. Lucius was afraid that his uncle would snap like he had the night before. Commodus had not necessarily threatened him, but he had threatened Lucilla, and the entire incident had unnerved poor Lucius. He had never seen his uncle grit his teeth, yell or clasp onto his mother's arm as tightly as he had the night before. No, his mother was always the voice of reason. She kept Commodus calm, and Lucius knew that his uncle relied on her to comfort him when he was upset. Lucius did not think that his mother would be able to fix this, though.

Commodus finally turned away from the balcony and met his nephew's eyes. Lucius sank back a little, immediately losing all of the courage that he had built up. The young boy dropped his arms away from his chest and hung them back innocently to his own sides. Commodus's lips were pressed together tightly and his eyes were red as if perhaps he had shed a few tears. Dark shadows had formed beneath his eyes. Lucius felt as if his own eyes were heavy. After being locked inside his own room, alone for the night, he had not gotten any sleep. He assumed that his uncle had not either. Lucius knew his uncle was angry at him, at his mother, and at Maximus, but he didn't fully understand. His mother had told him that the secrets they were planning were to preserve their lives and the future of Rome. That was why she snuck out late at night to visit Maximus and why she whispered to Senator Gracchus. She told him that what they were doing was not to be mentioned to his uncle Commodus yet, and she made him promise. She had entrusted him, and he got her into trouble. Dread swelled inside of Lucius's stomach at the thought.

"If you will stop pestering me then I may allow you to see her later!" Commodus suddenly snapped at the boy coldly, hissing the words out through clenched teeth. He lunged forward, leaning down a little to match the boy's level, and Lucius's entire body went rigid with fear. Lucius thought that Commodus was going to raise his hand at him, something that he had never done before, but he did not. Lucius flinched away anyway. He closed his eyes for a second or two before opening them again.

"But why can't I see her now?" Lucius asked fearfully. The words slipped from his mouth so childlike and quickly that even he could not stop them. A moment later, he wanted to take them back. He stared back at his uncle and his emperor, the man he had admired as if he had been his own father. Commodus glared back at him, unmoving, just seemingly studying the boy.  
"I just wanted to see if she was okay," Lucius added quietly.

He looked to the floor. He hadn't seen his mother since she had been whisked away from him the night before, after he'd sat beside Commodus and listened as he told him stories—strange stories that held threatening tones. His uncle had made his mother cry, and then she had been taken from him. Lucius was frightened of him now.

Lucius knew that it was his own fault. He had told his uncle what his mother had told him in confidence. As soon as the words, _Maximus the savior of Rome, _had spilled from his lips, Commodus had stiffened and Lucius realized his mistake. It was the secret he was not to speak of.

"I'm sorry for telling you what I told you, uncle," Lucius whimpered to his uncle.

Commodus's face was only inches from Lucius's, so his uncle's next movement was a quick and easy one. His uncle's hand grasped his chin gruffly, tilting his chin so that he was staring directly back into his uncle's angry eyes.

"You're sorry for _telling_ me? You should have _told_ me sooner you _dumb_ boy! At this rate you will never make an emperor!"

Lucius closed his mouth upon realizing that it had dropped open at his uncle's words. He was shocked at his uncle's harsh words, and he could not hide it.

"I…I…I'm sorry uncle. Please do not be angry with me."

Commodus's eyes softened just a little. He loosened his tight grip on the boy's chin, but he did not release him.

"Your mother will have to pay for what she has done, but you…I hope that you have already realized the mistake you have made, Lucius" he warned.

Lucius nodded quickly and Commodus released the hold he had on his nephew's chin.

"You nearly helped have me killed," Commodus clenched his jaws at his own words. He crossed his arms across his own chest.

"I..I..I did not know, uncle," Lucius stammered.

Commodus turned from Lucius and began pacing. He lowered his hands to hang by his sides and then crossed them back across his chest. He bit at his lip and then reached up to rub at his chin absentmindedly.

Lucius swallowed hard. "What are you doing sir?"

He did not want to stand idly by any longer. His uncle had summoned him from his room but was now ignoring him, and Lucius did not want to be around him.

"I'm trying to decide what I shall do, Lucius…What punishment I shall choose…or if I shall!" Commodus exploded again.

"Punishment for who?" the boy squeaked. "For Maximus? Mother?"

"Do not even speak his name, Lucius," Commodus growled. He stopped pacing immediately and faced his nephew again.

After a few moments of silence in which Lucius tried to avoid his uncle's distressed and pained eyes, Commodus motioned to a guard.

"I think it is time that I spoke with my sister," he announced.

Commodus turned without another word or glance at Lucius. All the boy could do was watch as his uncle disappeared into the room that his mother was in with the guards trailing behind his swishing cape. The guards immediately closed the door back behind them, and Lucius took a few slow steps back until he was leaning his back against the stone balcony ledge. One guard remained on the outside of the door to watch him. Lucius breathed in nervously. His stomach fluttered like the moths that flew into the torch flames when the sun began to set. They flew into their death unknowingly. Lucius rubbed at his chin where his uncle had grabbed him. He had never laid a hand on him before- not like that.

Lucius waited and waited, staring at the door as he listened to the muffled voice of his uncle. He tried to piece together parts of what he was saying, but he only caught a word every now and then. The guard that stood in front of the door stared back at him, unmoving and seemingly unaffected by the conversation going on inside. Lucius tried to avoid the man's emotionless eyes. He did not much like the guards. They were always so cold when they carried out the orders they were given. Lucius shuddered at a sudden thought. The guards could come for his mother and him at any moment. If his uncle ordered them to be thrown from the palace…or worse…killed, it would happen. They would kill them with the same, cold, uncaring expressions on their faces.

Lucius was beginning to think of walking back to his room when he heard a loud bellow from inside the room.

"Am I not merciful?!"

Lucius jumped at his uncle's roar from inside the room. He instinctively belted toward the door, but the guard reached forward and grabbed him by his outstretched arms.

"No!" Lucius yelled. "Let me inside, please!" he struggled against the guard, but the guard was strong.

"Stand back," the guard ordered with a voice that was strangely calm.

He held him until Lucius pulled back toward the balcony and away from the door. The guard allowed Lucius to wrench himself away in that direction. He stumbled backwards though, and fell backwards onto his backside. He leapt back to his feet immediately, trying to show no weakness, but the guard did not react to his embarrassing fall. Lucius swallowed the large lump that had found itself in his throat. Tears burned his eyes, and he angrily reached up to wipe his eyes hard. He wanted to see his mother. He had never been treated so by his uncle or the guards.

Lucius froze in his place as muffled voices continued on the other side of the door, a little louder as if they were moving closer to the exit. He was still standing there moments later when the door opened and Lucilla was led out by a few guards with Commodus trailing behind her.

"Mother!" Lucius ran past the guards, arms outstretched to her.

Fresh tears rested on Lucilla's cheeks, and upon seeing Lucius, she reached up embarrassedly to wipe them away.

"Lucius," she half whispered his name.

Lucius wrapped his arms around her waist, and was surprised when she did not return his affections. He stepped back to look at her, examining her for injury, and she stepped away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Mother what is wrong?" Lucius questioned her curiously.

His mother wrenched her eyes up to Commodus who had stopped a few steps away from the both of them. Lucilla opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak, but she did not. Instead, she swallowed hard. Lucius watched the motion travel down the pale skin of her neck. He raised his eyes to follow her gaze all the way to his uncle's face.

Commodus's face looked even redder than before. He was breathing heavily, and his jaws were clenched. He was glaring back at his sister, but he finally gave her a curt nod, barely noticeable had Lucius not have been studying him closely.

It wasn't until the signal from Commodus that Lucius felt his mother clasp onto his shoulders with both of her hands. She pulled his back to rest against her front protectively.

"You have my permission to escort Lucius to his room at this moment, sister," Commodus announced coldly.

"What do you say?" He then questioned. He motioned to them, but Lucius could tell by his uncle's line of sight that he was only motioning for his mother.  
"Thank you, Commodus," his mother said quickly.

"Just remember what we spoke of," he said as he stepped forward. He motioned for Lucilla to lean in closer.

Lucius felt his mother's body stiffen against him. Her hold on Lucius's shoulder became tight, so tight that Lucius felt bruised, but he did not move. His uncle moved directly in front of him and then he leaned in toward Lucilla. Lucius heard his mother's sharp intake of breath and heard the words that his uncle whispered into his mother's ear.

"You may have a few moments with him alone. After that, you will not even _look_ at him without my approval. Do not forget that you are always being watched. There are no more secrets here."

Lucius's mouth opened slightly. He wanted to speak, but he knew better. He snuck a glance up at his uncle just as he pulled away from the two of them and stepped back. Commodus crossed his arms behind his back and clasped his hands together.

"Lucius, come," his mother took him by the hand, something she had not done in a long time, and he allowed her to pull him away gently.

She wasted no time in leading him back to his room. Three guards trailed behind them, but they stopped at the curtain that partitioned Lucius's room from the hall.

Lucilla led Lucius to his bed and she sat on the edge. He hurriedly sat beside her.  
"Lucius, I love you so much, darling," his mother said quickly.

She released his hand from her clammy one and reached back up to wipe her face. Lucius did not speak. He stared back at his mother's flushed face with a childlike curiosity. Her eyes were still watery from the silent tears that had spilled from them. It was then that he realized he had never heard her cry. He had hardly seen her do so. Her tears were always silent and controlled, as she usually was.

"I'm sorry mother," Lucius murmured.

"Do not worry, Lucius," she said quickly.

"I've gotten us into terrible trouble haven't I? I would not blame you if you did not love me anymore."  
"Lucius," Lucilla reached down to grasp his chin to tilt his gaze to hers. It was much different than the way that his uncle had done earlier. Her grasp was tender.

"I love you," she said. "And because I love you…that, Lucius, is why you are going to be spending a lot of time with your uncle…and when you do, you are not going to be able to see me as often."

"What?" Lucius demanded loudly. "Why mother?"

"Shhh," Lucilla released his chin. She reached over and smoothed his hair. "Come here. Lay your head down. You musn't question it."

Lucius reluctantly leaned over and laid his head in his mother's lap. She began running her fingers through his hair, gently, soothing him into focusing on her slender fingers running soft circles, and twirling a few strands between her fingers. He closed his eyes, but did not sleep.


	2. Commodus

Commodus pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked to Lucius's room. Quietly, he motioned for the guards to leave, and they did. Commodus flattened his back against the wall as he strained his ears to listen to his nephew and sister.

"But why? I don't understand," Lucius asked.

Commodus shook his head at the boy's persistence and complete lack of knowledge. He leaned his ear closer to the curtain and steadied his breathing.

"Don't question him, Lucius," Lucilla warned, and Commodus felt a slight smile form on his lips. She understood that she must obey.

A feeling of pride surged in his chest. It swelled and rolled, affecting him like a high for a few seconds before it disappeared altogether. The feeling was quickly replaced with the anger and loneliness he could not seem to shake anymore. Lucilla had been so eager to plot against him. How long had she been planning or waiting for an opportunity? He had been so stupid, admiring her while she plotted behind his back. Commodus gritted his teeth until his jaws ached.

"But you'll still be here. You'll still be living here. I will see you. He cannot keep me from seeing my mother," Lucius began again.

Commodus peeked through the slight crack in the curtain. Lucilla was gently running her fingers through her son's perfect locks. Her face was tilted down, staring at her son's with a motherly admiration.

Commodus clenched his teeth a little tighter. He just could not control the jealousy that he felt for the boy. He had loved the boy…actually loved him, but the boy was so willing to wrong him, just as his mother had.

"Lucius, be polite. Do not defy him. Do you understand me? You must do what he asks you to do, but… remember all of the things _I_ taught you," Commodus noted the soft way that Lucilla lowered her voice as if she feared he was listening.

He knew that he had her then. She had obviously feared him to begin with. If she felt that she had to have him assassinated, then she must have felt some fear. Commodus closed his eyes as he listened to her soft voice. It was still so hard to believe that his own sister, the one who had kept him company his entire life, the one he had loved—_truly _loved, would have him killed as if he were nothing but a lame and unworkable animal.

"What does he want? How is this punishment?" Lucius demanded. "Keeping us from seeing each other is our punishment?"

"No, Lucilla murmured. "You are not going to be punished, as long as you follow his orders."

"What are his orders?"

"You will be okay, dear Lucius. I promise that. I will keep you safe-

Commodus moved the curtain and stepped into the room. He could not stand to tarry in his own thoughts any longer. He had heard enough. Lucilla had had enough time with her son. Both mother and son noticed the intrusion at once. Lucilla sat up straighter in her position perched on the edge of the bed, and Lucius sat up, immediately pulling his head from his mother's lap. The boy's eyes were wide. Commodus recognized fear there, but it did not sicken him. In fact, he enjoyed the expression on his nephew's face.

"Come Lucilla. That is enough."

She hesitated as if she were afraid and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Now," he snapped as he reached out his hand.

Lucilla breathed in deeply. She reached over and took her son's hand as she stood up. She then leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Lucilla locked eyes with Commodus as she strode towards him. She lowered her eyes to his hand before she hesitantly lowered hers to his. He closed his fingers around her hand. Instead of leaning over to politely kiss it as he usually did, he turned and roughly led her from her son's room. The curtain swished back behind them, leaving the boy sitting alone on the edge of his bed.

Commodus walked briskly, and he could feel Lucilla still hesitating behind him, causing him to pull her along by her hand. She reached down and gathered the material of her gown so she would not trip.

"Commodus where are we going?" she asked.

Lucilla's question echoed in his mind. Where _were_ they going? Commodus was not so sure that he had a destination in place when he tore her away from her son.

"Commodus!" her voice was much more stern. It was obvious that she wanted his attention.

With her hand still clasped tightly in his, Commodus turned back to her abruptly, catching her off guard. She leaned backwards to keep their bodies from crashing together. He breathed in deeply. Her lips were so close to his until she turned her head slightly away from him. He tightened his grip on her hand and stared at her until she finally spoke.

"Commodus, you should rest…you look as though-"

"What? I look as though I did not sleep?" he interrupted her. "How could I rest? There was much to be done last night."

He smiled at the thought of his assassins and their deeds the night before.

Lucilla looked to the ground, avoiding his eyes. He had not necessarily told her, but he knew that she already knew that he had taken care of what he saw fit.

"What are we doing, Commodus," she finally asked, bringing her eyes back to his.

Commodus moistened his lips. It pained him…being so close to her yet so far away…so far away because she had betrayed him.

"What is in your head, Commodus? You can talk to me," Lucilla once again sounded sisterly and loving, and Commodus felt his shoulders slouch.

He reached up to wipe the sudden outbreak of sweat off of his forehead with the back of his free hand. The other hand, he still held tightly around hers. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do before she sidetracked him. Had his plan been to take her to his room?

"I will listen," Lucilla said again, interrupting his thoughts.

Commodus nodded to her, incapable of doing much else.

"Let us stop here at the balcony," she whispered, and Commodus released her hand.

He followed her to the balcony and stopped beside her as he tried to regain his composure.

Lucilla stared straight ahead into the sunlight. Her hands were perched on the stone wall of the balcony. It met both she and Commodus at nearly chest high.

Commodus turned his head to stare at her. The sunlight glistened in her golden hair. Much of it had fallen from its place and hung in delicate tendrils, framing her face. She looked tired, or maybe just worried, but her skin, other than begin slightly puffy from crying, looked flawless in the mid-morning sun.

He watched her chest rise and fall with her breathing. They were breaths that he could tell she was trying her best to regulate in attempt to keep her fear hidden. Her beauty in the sunlight took his breath away. The admiration he had for her was still there. She was so composed, even in the face of uncertainty. She looked remarkably similar to the way she had when their mother had died, and much more the way she looked when she found out that their father was dead.

She was his sister and his only support, but she had also planned his overthrow and assassination. Commodus closed his eyes for a moment. His head ached. He had been betrayed by the one person he put every ounce of his trust into. But his head was not the only part of him that ached. His heart ached, his muscles ached as if he had run and run, and his hands ached with the want to reach out and touch his sister. He was not sure if he wanted to gently clasp her shoulder or violently wring her neck. He had fought the urge to reach out and brush his fingers against her lips for so long. He only wanted to love her. It was an urge he had fought for as long as he could remember.

"Do you remember when we were very little," Commodus paused to clear his throat. "And we snuck away from the guards, sister?"

Lucilla did not respond to his question for a few brief seconds, and he stared at her, losing more and more patience the longer he did. Finally, she glanced down to her hands, still propped on the wall.  
"I remember many occasions in which we did so," she answered.

Commodus smiled an almost painful smile at the happy memories. He was so angry at her, but not at the same time. He was hurt by her, but he loved her so much. He also remembered many occasions in which they snuck away from the guards who were supposed to watch them. They explored the palace, even the areas where they were forbidden to go. They usually giggled so loud that they were found and taken back to their own rooms. They were both so innocent and without a care in the world.

"Yes. Well…I…I am speaking of the time when we snuck away and…" he paused to moisten his dry lips.

"And I was jumping down the stone steps that father told me to stay away from, taking them a few at the time, although you warned me not too, and I fell and I knocked myself unconscious on the stone. Do you remember that day?"

"I could not forget that, Commodus," Lucilla said softly. She turned to face him finally, and Commodus felt lighter immediately, almost letting himself forget everything she had recently done to defy and hurt him.

He was lost in the memories, remembering when life was as simple as following his older sister around the palace, laughing and avoiding the guards.

"I carried you back to father…in my arms the entire way. You were bleeding and I feared that you were dead," Lucilla murmured. "I was so frightened."

Commodus smiled sincerely.

"I remember waking with my head resting on your shoulder," he murmured as he reached out and cupped his hand over her bare shoulder.

"Right here," He squeezed her soft skin gently. "I had bled all over your dress, but you did not seem to mind."

Lucilla's eyes did not leave his, but she swallowed hard as if she was trying to maintain composure. He could sense the rejection coming once again. She always put up that wall he could not break through. It was not fair to love someone with a love that felt so strong even he could not comprehend it— to be rejected by her so many times although she never spoke the specific words of rejection.

"My head hurt so badly, but I felt so safe. I have always felt so safe with you. You have always been so strong…so headstrong," Commodus murmured.

Lucilla did not seem affected by his words.

"I remember that even days after I had fallen…when you and I walked down the stone steps where I had fallen, you would grasp my arm as if you thought I would stumble again."

"You hurt yourself quite often when you were young," Lucilla murmured.

"Indeed I did," Commodus said softly.

"You were much closer to me when we were younger, Lucilla. I remember when father always told you to keep careful watch over me when I was young…and you did," he stared into her eyes, searching for any sign of an emotion other than the fear and uncertainty that he knew he had put there. "He trusted you…Just a young girl to take care of me."

Lucilla nodded.

"But when I grew older and I, as most boys do, grew much stronger than you, he did not tell me the same," Commodus continued. "He never told me to keep careful watch over you, my sister," He could feel his anger coming back to the surface—anger at his father and anger at Lucilla's abandonment.

"Because he knew that you would. He knew that you loved me," Lucilla said quickly, blurting out the words as if she sensed his change.

"What did father tell you?" Commodus asked, removing his hand from her shoulder and placing his hand heavily over one of hers, weighing it down on the stone ledge.  
"What?" Lucilla asked innocently. "When?"

"You know when," Commodus said a little colder than even he expected.

Lucilla shook her head. Her eyes searched his. "I don't know what you are speaking of I-"

"Before you stopped…keeping me company when I had nightmares or sharing my bed to tell me stories when my mind was so restless that I could not sleep," Commodus interrupted her. "You allowed me to rest my head in your lap as you allow Lucius. You ran your fingers through my hair. We whispered secrets in the darkness-"

"Lucius is my son, Commodus. He's a child-"

"You spoke so sweetly," he interrupted her.  
You were a child," she said quickly. "You are no longer that child."

"No. You were much closer to me when I was no longer a child as well. You do not know how terribly I long for that feeling. I want you to hold me to you. I want to feel your warmth…your heartbeat against my face. My bed is so cold. My dreams keep me from resting. I lay awake at night, wondering if you are sleeping as blissfully as you did when we were children…because I no longer can."

The tension in Lucilla's face disappeared, and she breathed out tiredly. Commodus knew that she remembered what their father had spoken of. Commodus knew then that he had been right about his father doing so. He squeezed her hand a little harder. Nothing about the grasp was tender. She opened her mouth to speak, but she looked down to his hand.

"Commodus…"

"Tell me," he ordered. "I know that he was the cause of your sudden coldness toward me. I knew that he had spoken to you, but I never asked you. I never asked him."

"It was before I was to get married, Commodus. Father told me that I should be careful. He told me that I would soon be a married woman- something that I had not realized until then. You must understand. He knew that you loved me…very much. It…it worried him."

"It _worried_ him?" Commodus repeated.

"Commodus I do not want you to be angry with me..."

"Then tell me the truth," he growled.

"Father saw what I did not. The affection that I considered innocent from you was not so innocent in his eyes," Lucilla blurted out.

Commodus squinted back at his sister but had to look away from her. He released her hand and leaned over the stone, resting his elbows and placing his hands over his face.

"Brother… he would not approve of this," her voice was barely above a whisper, and after a few moments of silence, he slowly allowed his eyes to drift back up to hers.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to compose himself.

"Of what would father not approve, _dear sister_?"

She inhaled and exhaled, dropping her eyes away from his. She glanced to the guards standing not far away before answering him.

"Of us…you and I….and your plans. He would not approve of your thoughts. You know that."

"Well father is no longer alive, is he? Besides, do you truly believe that he would have approved of your plans to assassinate me? Your own brother?" His words were cold.

"Well perhaps he would have. He clearly loved you more than he loved me. He did not love me at all," Commodus continued coldly.

"That's not true, Commodus. He did love you."

"Well why was he so worried that I would ruin things?"

"He was afraid I would ruin _you_…ruin _Rome_…ruin _everything_ because he did not trust me," he hissed.

Lucilla stared back at him, unmoving, but Commodus knew that she was thinking hard. The thoughts in her mind were moving fast. He wondered if she had ever suspected that he had taken their father's life. If she had, she had not let it show…just as she had not let her other secrets and true feelings of him show…well until that very moment that they stood on the balcony.

"Commodus," she began. "I need to hear the truth from you…about father."

Commodus flicked his tongue over his dry lips and glanced to the stone that his hands rested on. He smiled a fleeting smile. "I know that you already know the answer to that question, dear sister," he murmured. "I'm sure your beloved savior of Rome has already told you."

She inhaled sharply. Commodus knew that if the guards were not standing not far away, and he had not threatened her son, his sister would have left him standing there. She would have probably left the palace altogether.

"Father _loved you_," she whispered. Her voice was nearly overcome by the new emotion in her voice. "He knew that this was not what was best for you. Look what you have done."

"Look what you have done!" he roared back at her.

Lucilla regained her composure, but she tightened her jaws.

Commodus stared back at his sister until his breathing slowed a little. "I am what is best for _Rome_ …and for _you_. With father now gone, what are you really? Without me what are you? You will forgive me…just as I am forgiving you for your own disloyalty," he lowered his voice a little. "I do not know how much I will be able to trust you…but-"

"I cannot forgive you for all that you have done," Lucilla spat out.

"Well what will become of poor Lucius?" Commodus questioned calmly. He stared at her for a few moments. He could see her losing her composure.

Lucilla's eyes became tear-filled, and she bit down on her bottom lip. She inhaled shakily.

"Please do not hurt him. He is so innocent," she whispered.

Commodus turned from her and looked back into the sunlight over the balcony. He could feel his own eyes burning.

"I suggest that you cooperate and forgive me then," he said simply. His own words sounded cold and uncaring.

"Commodus, you have to understand why I did what I did. It is unfair what you have been doing. When you killed father…what you did to Maxim-," she paused before fully saying his name. "And his family…His wife and child."

"You have to understand-" Lucilla pleaded again.  
"I forgive you," Commodus interrupted her softly.

Still gazing out over the balcony, he held out his hand to her, once again tempting her obedience and trying to show her the love that he had always wanted to- the affection she either blocked out or refused completely. He waited a second…another…and another before he felt her hand slip into his. He gently clasped his fingers around her hand and turned back to face her. She looked as though she was struggling to maintain composure. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he slowly raised her hand to his lips.

Lucilla closed her eyes, and he paused. He relished the feeling of his lips on her skin even if it was just her hand.

"It is not unheard of, sister…That brother and sister love each other," he murmured as he finally lowered her hand.  
"Father did not raise us to love each other in _that_ way," she whispered.

"Father no longer has a hold over us… or over Rome."

Commodus bit down on his bottom lip. The feelings—the urges he felt were those of a confused man. He wanted her, he wanted to love her, but he always wanted to punish her…to make her obey him and pay for what she had already done.

"Go to your room, Lucilla. Rest because you will go to the coliseum at noon," he clenched his fists on the stone and turned back to the balcony.

Lucilla glanced back to him as if she was surprised, but she turned and left, gathering her skirts and rushing away from him.


	3. Lucilla

Lucilla followed two guards, and two more guards trailed behind her…far enough that they would not trod on her trailing dress. It was a dress that Commodus had sent to her room. She stared ahead. At the end of the hall, Commodus already stood. His golden crown glistened, and he was dressed for the coliseum. Beside him, Lucius stood still. A few more guards surrounded her boy as if they believed he would do something wrong. It pained her to see her son subjected to everything.

Lucilla took a deep breath. She had not rested. She had sat on the edge of her bed or paced. With every noise outside of her room, she expected Commodus to be there. A part of her had expected him to come to her room, but thankfully he had not.

"Did you rest well, Sister?" Commodus asked, but Lucilla sensed no real concern in his voice.

Lucilla nodded a nod that was barely a nod, but Commodus accepted the answer. He reached over and touched his nephew's shoulder. Lucius glanced up to his uncle's face, and Commodus nodded to him.

Lucius stepped closer to Lucilla, and Lucilla gave her son a forced smile, but she did not reach out to him as she wanted too.

"Well I am off to ready myself," Commodus finally spoke.

Lucilla did not glance up to him. Instead she looked down to the ground. Surely Maximus would be able to gain the upper hand if Commodus was actually going to fight him. The true gladiator would prevail right? Lucilla at least hoped that Commodus would remain fair, but she had her doubts. She was afraid that she was going to witness Maximus's murder in front of the masses of Rome and at the hands of her brother.

"Lucilla, will you not kiss your brothe- your _emperor_?" Commodus interrupted her thoughts. A smirk formed on his lips, and his eyes flicked in Lucius's direction. "For good luck?"

Lucilla stared back at her brother. Just moments before, he had lovingly recalled the stories of their childhood and then threatened her and her son. His quick changes were one of the reasons she had begun to fear him quite some time ago. She took a deep breath before she moved forward to rest her hand on her brother's shoulder. He was unpredictable.

"Hail Cesar," she said softly, making it a point that she stared into his eyes. She grasped his right cheek and chin tenderly.

Lucilla leaned out and pressed her lips to his cheek, a simple, loving gesture that she knew that Lucius had seen more times than he could count. He would not think it odd. She pressed her lips to her brother's warm, flushed face softly and then pulled away.

"That's not what I meant," he snapped coldly, catching her wrist in his hand as she pulled it away from his cheek.

Lucilla raised her eyes to her brother's nearly identical ones. He tilted his chin up a little.

She looked to his lips. The much more personal sign of affection the he longed for was exactly what she had expected for him to ask for. She knew that he had wanted that many times when he asked for a kiss, but he accepted her it on his cheek. This time he was not going to settle. It was as if he was testing her, in front of her son, in front of all of the guards.

She was embarrassed already. She leaned in slightly. She could feel the blood pounding at her temples, flushing her cheeks, and when she neared him, she closed her eyes, slowing her movement so that she could gently peck his lips as she had with his cheek. Before she could press her lips to his, he leaned forward and met hers.

Lucilla released his cheek, and he placed his hand at her neck, caressing her as he kissed her with a kiss that she only wanted to escape from.

With Lucius at her side, Commodus kissed her hard, drinking her in as if he was completely parched and she was the only source of water. He was desperate. She pulled away a little, but he followed her, pushing her head farther back like a young, inexperienced teenager. He kept his grip tight on her wrist, and she feared that her skin would be bruised.

Tears threatened to spill from her closed eyes, and the painful lump grew in her throat. She fought the urge to reach out and push him away from her, afraid of what he would do.

He kissed her as if it their first real kiss would be their last, and secretly, she hoped it would be.

When he finally pulled away, he breathed in heavily, and just as she opened her eyes, he laid his warm forehead against hers heavily. His breath warmed her face. She closed her eyes again and breathed in deeply, trying to remain still and remain calm, allowing him to lean into her. He seemed to be having a hard time regaining his composure. His weight nearly made her stumble back. He wore armor that only made it increasingly harder to withstand his weight against her. She inhaled his familiar scent, not at all as purposely as he inhaled hers.

"You wounded me, Lucilla," he whispered against her face. "_You _wounded _me_….like father did. You even turned Lucius away from me. I truly loved him too, but…. I…. _still_ love you."

A shiver traveled down her spine and tingled at her arms and legs. His breath was warm…no hot against her skin.

"I love you. I _always_ loved you…but you have _never _loved _me_," he whispered the words, and his voice changed. It cracked painfully, and Lucilla could feel the pain in his voice. It was like the pain of a wounded child, reminding her of when he was young and skinned his knee or when he was not allowed to go out and play with the other young boys. He pulled his forehead away but moved his face to rest in the crook of her neck. She shivered visibly when his breath met her soft skin.  
"I loved you, Commodus. You are my brother. I loved you as my _brother_…" she paused, unsure what to say or what to do.

She was also in pain. Her throat ached with a sob that was trapped. It was a sob for herself, for Lucius, for Maximus, for Rome, and for Commodus himself. She closed her eyes once again as she felt his lips on her neck. He kissed her softly.

"Am I that _atrocious_? His voice cracked painfully as he pulled his face away from her neck.

Lucilla opened her eyes, but she did not speak.

His pressed his lips together tightly. The sadness on his face quickly turned to anger.

"You _will_ love me. I will show you how easily you can love me. How you will change your mind," he gritted through his teeth. "I want to leave a legacy. _ We _can leave a legacy that will control Rome….a pure heir…We will be remembered…you and I."

Lucilla tried to hide the disgust on her face. How many times had she laid beside him and told him to lay his head upon her lap, not realizing just how deeply his proclaimed love for her was. Not realizing that the nightmares that plagued him were not just of disasters and death. Not until just after her father's death had her suspicions of her brother's feelings began to come to the light. Her father had told her early on, but it was not until she was a widow that she recognized his feelings herself. They were no longer children or teenagers. He was a man now- a disturbed and confused man with power to bend her to his will.

"May I sit beside my son?" She felt her eye lids flutter a little at the permission she had to ask for, and she worried of his reaction to her interrupting him.

Commodus looked to Lucius. His expression seemed to lighten a little, though, and Lucilla breathed out in relief.

"You may."

"I'm going to have a talk with your beloved Maximus before our fight. I expect you to be in your regular seat. It will be something you do not want you to miss…Something that you will _not _miss."

She nodded to him.

He stared at her for a moment longer and then turned away, taking a piece of white armor from the guard closest to him.

Lucilla watched him leave. He strode with his head held high. Lucilla reached up to touch her lips with the tip of her finger, and then glanced down to the top of her son's head. If not for Lucius, Lucilla would kill herself. Commodus even knew that. She would escape from the chaos she knew her brother was sure to cause. As it crossed her mind, the thought surprised her. She reached down and rested her palm on her son's head. What was Lucius going to be subjected to? Perhaps she could end it for the both of them painlessly. She removed her hand and clasped it over her mouth. The thought sickened her, but appealed to her all at the same time.

"He will kill Maximus," Lucius concluded as he looked up to her.

"He will try," Lucilla answered her son softly, studying the innocence in his eyes.

"He could kill _you_," the boy continued.

"He will not kill me," Lucilla murmured.

"And I…He will kill me as well. I don't want to die mother"

Lucilla cleared the earlier thoughts from her head immediately. Her stomach lurched.

"No he will not. He is your uncle. He cares for you too much." Lucilla tried to make her son feel better, but she was not so sure that she believed herself. "He cares for both of us. We are all that he has left."

"What's wrong with him mother? What has happened? Why is he acting this way?"

"He is confused, Lucius. He is hurting and he has been for a long time."

"Well what can we do, mother?"

Lucilla glanced down to her son, and a tear slipped from her eye. She reached up to wipe it away quickly. "There is nothing that we can do for him, my son. Pray for him…and pray for us."


End file.
